


Christmas 2020 Follower Requests

by AxelGrey1



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Cannibalism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28277982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxelGrey1/pseuds/AxelGrey1
Summary: Some various shorts of actors for dinner for Christmas. -_-_-Cannibalism with reform and non-reforming present-_-_-
Kudos: 3





	Christmas 2020 Follower Requests

> **Christmas 2020 Follower Requests**

**Harry Christmas with Harry Styles - Maleficents**

To say you were excited would be an understatement. After a rough year of quarantine, you saved up every penny and decided to splurge. You ordered a whole roaster service from “The Christmas Star Meats” Program. Some were already taken but you were able to nab Harry Styles. For A late lunch booking. As if by magic your doorbell rang and you quickly opened it. There he was. Harry Styles in the branded speedo and a pair of flip flops. His tattooed body on display. “Order up.” He smirked. The chef entered and found his way to your kitchen to begin setting up and you wordlessly gestured into your home, closing the door after Harry entered.

By the time Harry found a seat, kicking his feet up you both heard the sound of speedy chopping, beeping of the oven, and smells of things being prepared in the other room. You both looked in that direction before looking to each other. He kicks off the flip flops, his perfectly smooth soles on display for you. “I believe you requested some private time with these so you better get to it if you want that. This chef does not fool around. He might come in and chop them off with your mouth still wrapped around my toes. We’re on a tight schedule for me to reform and be ready for the next appointment…he keeps us on track.” Harry shrugged, wiggling his toes. Not wasting a moment you jump in, licking up the soft feet. Not so big but quite flavorful and oh so soft and supple.

You nibble at the heel and the ball of his foot when an egg timer goes off and the chef walks in, picking up the British twunk and carrying him off over his shoulder. As he disappeared into the kitchen he calls out “Hope you enjoy my me-“ and the voice was cut off, muffled by no doubt the apple. Following that, in rapid succession, you hear chops and sizzling and things sliding into the oven. Another person from the company in just a branded polo shirt comes to set up a table in front of your tv where Christmas movies are playing. A glass of paired alcohol mixed drink and in no time some bits were coming out. The metal cloche was pulled off a steaming plate with Harry’s cock and balls resting between his pec steaks. You dig in, savoring the way the expert chef has cooked the meat, and in no time you’ve finished eating the pecs before digging into the cock, chewy but just the right tenderness as you notice the cock has been tied at both ends to hold in the cum, cream-filled in a way that bursts in your mouth. Soon after Harry’s head is on a spike on the table’s center, apple in his mouth followed by serving after serving of meat. Roasted arms you eat like a turkey leg at a renaissance faire, grilled calves cut into thin almost prosciutto slices drizzled with vinaigrette glaze.Lastly, his feet are set on a small display pillow beneath his head, as requested on the order form that you could keep them for pleasure later. Some cuts are left to stew and the final thing is Harry, cut from the small of his back down to the thighs. Your own Christmas ham.

There are leftovers for weeks, you hadn’t even finished his hams until new year’s eve, savoring bites here and there.

**Henry Cavill’s Feet - Magnusdan**

Waking up on Christmas Day your stomach flutters with excitement. Coming down the stairs you see the tree has a few gifts underneath but one, in particular, catches your eye. A long box with footprints imprinted on golden foil stars. The telltale sign that you got what you wanted most for Christmas. “The Christmas Star Meats” Program opened just last year and you didn’t think you’d even get It but there it is. Hurrying over you take it to the kitchen, your stomach now grumbling in anticipation as well as excitement flutters.

You tear the paper off and pull the lid off the box. A signed headshot of Actor Henry Cavill is laying atop some tissue paper signed:

Thanks for ordering my feet. Hope both size 14’s will be enough to sate your Christmas Hunger…Save one for Boxing Day ;) -HC

You quickly pull the tissue paper out of the box to reveal both of the Superman Actor’s large size 14 feet, soles up in the molded foam holder that kept them steadily in place. You lift one out, it’s limp but firm with meat. You curl and uncurl the plump toes, squeeze the ball to feel the padding of meat underneath the skin, squeezing the tender sides down to the mouthwatering heel.Perfection in their large size as well as how perfectly meaty they were…as if he were made for this. Wasting no time you preheat the oven, seeing that on the back of the headshot is a suggested recipe. Following it you cut up some aromatics, sticking them in a large ziplock bag with Worcestershire, salt, pepper, and your favorite pork rub. Then in goes one foot. You zip it closed and massage it through the plastic, making sure that the marinade gets between the toes, into the skin. You walk in to watch some Christmas movies on tv as you continue to massage the marinade into his foot, in your other hand is the other foot you idly lick and suck and nip at to pass the time until the oven beeps. You slip the foot onto a baking sheet with a little rack attached as the recipe instructs so you can baste it using its own juices. You do so, watching movies between bastings until wrapping it in foil for the last half hour of cooking.

Soon enough it’s ready, you’ve been smelling the scent of cooking prime quality meat for the last two hours and you pull it out, unwrapping it and seeing the perfectly toasted and glistening foot.You plate it, grabbing a couple of spoons of flour to mix in with the leftover juices to make a Cavill Gravy. Sitting down at the table you cut off some tender side of the foot meat. A nice long strip and wrap it in a circle to spear on your fork like a spaghetti noodle. In your mouth, it bursts with flavor, Merry Christmas Indeed…

**Chris Hemsworth Delivered - Bloodyempress**

****

Wrapped and leaning up against the wall next to the tree when you wake up is a tall box. The wrapping paper very much the brand you were hoping for but oddly enough it seems to be as if someone growth-ray’d a barbie box. You quickly open it to see Chris Hemsworth behind the glass window into the metal box. He is what looks like zip-tied at the neck, just under his pecs, his waist, wrists, knees, and ankles. There’s a large sticker that states that this is a one of a kind…it’s Chris Hemsworth himself as a roaster. No Regen or reform. You can see he’s breathing barely inside but very unconscious. Turning the box you see the instructions. There are a few buttons under them. Red buttons at locations on his body in the picture to cut at the locations where the zip ties were, blue to wake him up, and a green button to roast him whole as is.

You Press blue and a hissing comes from inside before he groans, coming to.

“What the hell?” You can hear from inside. Walking around to the window he sees you and tries to wiggle out but is tighter than he thought making him only flex oh so deliciously. “How’d I get here? Who are you?” With a smile and not answering any questions, you walk back and press the red button next to the picture’s ankles and he screams. There’s a muffled sound of meaty clattering until a slot opens in the back of the box where you are and you reach in and pull out the size 13’s to the sound of him crying out. As it’s the first thing in the morning you decide to press the Green button and the box whirrs to life. A timer beeps to life on the other side so you walk over and sit on the couch watching as the box turns out to be an oven as well as a pretty display case. Holding his feet, worshipping them slowly you watch Chris cook live in front of you, the machine showering him with seasonings and bastings on a pre-programmed schedule. You forget about Christmas movies because you have a Hollywood actor in your living room to watch cook and beg to be let out.

A few hours later he is groaning but golden brown, the process having kept him alive but steadily cooked. The blue buttons light up now apparently to signal that they were cooked. You then spend the rest of your Christmas Day slowly eating Chris Hemsworth until he’s just a head that falls into the reception slot, his feet will be kept as toys until they’re food…because who could pass those up?”

**Stewed Sebastian Stan for MarkPuth**

As the sun started to go down you knew it was getting to the point where the fun would have to end. Sighing you put down Sebastian’s foot, frowning as you rub your saliva into the smooth soles. He sees that you’re upset and leans in, squeezing your shoulder.

“Hey…don’t think about it as the last you’ll see of these feet. I’m being stewed, right? I’ll just keep them out of the pot and you can keep them company while I cook for a while.” He shoots you that smile and it does cheer you up…after all…he’s gonna taste delicious. The large cauldron-like pot in your backyard has been slowly warming up. Meatboy/Longpig (depending on your region) bone broth, carrots, onions, potatoes, and some thick tomato soup all mingling with herbs and spices.

You carry him to it and with a reassuring nod you lower him in, ensuring his ankles were resting on the rim as well as his neck so both his feet and head were out of up softly bubbling base. You watch as his chest is overtaken by the thick soup looking like it was trying to lick into every crevice as his meaty body lowers. His toned muscles were sure to take on the flavor and tenderize as he cooked in a way that was truly amazing. Sebastian was the most recent of your acquisitions for stewing and was bound to make your famous bone broth even better. Currently, he was cooking in the broth from Scott Eastwood, Michael B. Jordan, and Paul Rudd. All of them making the broth better and better.

Getting down to here his feet were resting at face level you dove back in, chewing at the round heel with gusto, receiving a moaning laugh. “Be careful bud, don’t wanna eat those raw when you can have ‘em cooked. Lick them nice and soft, ‘kay?” He pats you on the head by curling and uncurling his toes.

Without realizing that time has passed it’s been an hour with Sebastian in the pot and he knows the drill after you’ve chatted about it he dips his feet into the sauce that is now bubbling like a hot tub. You set your alarm for thirty minutes and once that was up you put on your long apron, pulling Sebastian out who was now a bit too weak from the heat, and set him on the long prep table that was next to the pot. Taking the cleaver you started at the head, cutting it off and affixing it to the presentation pike before cutting the arm into multiple cuts, the legs as well, tossing the hands in whole/ You then sliced into the meat, cutting the pecs off and slapping them into a pan with some heated oil to sizzle and get a nice crispy texture on the skin. As that happened you chopped the legs up and tossed the feet in last with a kiss for a few more minutes.

After checking the meat a few times you saw it was cooked through. Pulling out chunks of meat that fell off the bones, which you tossed into a smaller pot with the vegetable peels and such, you poured the stew with Sebastian meat into a bowl, setting into the nice cool weather food, chewing a chunk of heel meat and reminiscing about the handsome actor and your time together on Christmas morning. You lift the foot in a cheers motion to the head before biting more off.


End file.
